Cooperation
by LexiAmbroseCabana
Summary: AU. Dean Ambrose is a man separated from his group and on a mission to find them. Chelsea just wants to find a semblance of normalcy in post-apocalyptic America. Fate pushes them together but can they stick together? But they both agree that 'The Walking Dead' made surviving look easy. Ambrose/OC Rated for language, possible sex, and definitely violence as it progresses.
1. Life Saver

He couldn't remember the last time he had seen another living person. The group he was with; him, his brothers, and a couple others, had been separated by a horde of those things(whatever they were) and he lost the one woman he'd promised he'd protect. It was all her fault, though, because she wasn't wearing her shoes and tripped over her feet.

The only thing he ever thought when that moment came to mind were two simple words. Poor Renee.

He had to keep moving. Moving meant that he didn't dwell on the mistakes of others. He didn't have the time and he certainly didn't want to make the time. Making the time meant giving those things time to catch him off guard and that really wasn't on his agenda.

What he wanted to do is get his hands on a decent car with some gas in it and some things to make a siphon out of so he didn't have to travel on foot. He had pretty good stamina and made sure to change his socks every time that he stopped in a safe spot to rest, but he was getting really tired of traveling by foot. The car didn't even have to be decent, it just had to be quiet.

Another thing he wanted was a hot meal. Or something more than the one and a half protein bars he was eating a day to feed his muscles and keep his energy up. At that rate the stash he had in his bag would last him another four weeks, longer if he dropped down to only one bar a day.

One last thing he'd like, but didn't necessarily need, was a companion capable of a decent conversation. The empty roads and groans out in the distance weren't enough to satisfy his strange want for human contact. This want bothered him, because he wasn't even a people person before the disease spread. He could keep up conversation and had a sense of humor, but he preferred being a lone wolf for the most part. He'd hang out with his brothers, but that was really it.

Yet here he was wanting to talk to somebody about something. Anything. It could've been a teenage girl who only wanted to talk about her favorite boy-band for all he cared, he just wanted some human interaction of some sort. Even if they parted ways afterwards, just a few words would satisfy him.

After a few hours of walking, he stumbled across an inn on the side of the highway am stopped for a moment as he looked at the sign. Was it worth the half mile walk for a chance of food, some socks, and maybe a clean shirt? Or should he hope for a general store down the road? What were the chances of some of those things being in there? Places like that were always shady to his older brother. But his younger brother always wanted to check things out.

"You never know when you'll find some useful shit in good condition. Or food. Temporary shelter, maybe?"

Yeah, the younger one would've said something like that and the older would argued by saying that there could've been a hoard or maybe psychos that want all of their useful shit and weapons. _You never know._ Then they'd look to him, and he'd shrug, so they'd poll the group to see if it was worth it. Renee was always an investigative little shit, which made sense because she was a journalist before shit hit the fan, but the others were always a bit more wary of investigating houses. For some it was a question of morals because they felt like they were looting and others just didn't feel safe. He couldn't blame them either way, but he felt like all the rules were non existent when good people turned into things that tried to eat the faces off of other people.

He heard a scream from the direction of the inn and his mind was made up for him, knowing that he still had a chance to save whoever was in danger. He ran fast, but conserved his energy, trying to be of use when he got down the trail. He opened the door just in time to see a woman duck out of the way of one of those things' lunges and knew that he should help out. So he pulled out his gun and fired a simple shot at the thing, dropping it where it stood before he slowly walked towards the woman who stared at him in shock.

"You okay?" He asked quietly, not wanting to further startle her or alert other things to where they were if the gunshot already hadn't. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"How do I know for sure?" She spoke softly, pushing her dirty red hair out of her face so she could watch him put the safety back on his gun.

"Because if I was, I would've done so already."

Judging by the way that she stared at him after that, he could tell that it was going to be alright having her around. He didn't think it would work out if she was too talkative, because he just wanted to find his brothers and they had a set destination in mind that he wanted to get to see if they waited for him. That meant that he had no time to waste getting to know some redhead, because his brothers were waiting.

* * *

><p><strong>I've been corrupted by the Halloween bug and I couldn't get this idea out of my head. Updates on my other stories shouldn't be delayed for this one since it's already almost done. <strong>

**Please review and let me know if I should keep this going. **


	2. Hoards and Honeymoons

She looked over at the man she was keeping pace with, unable to deny how the rugged look suited him. But this wasn't any time to fawn over the guy that just saved her life and she knew that. So she quickly looked back to the landscape in front of them, stopping when he stopped to look at something in the distance.

"Is something wrong?"

"Not yet." He whispered, ducking down and pulling her with him. He put a finger to his lips and she nodded, slowly moving behind him to sit behind a truck. It was then that she heard the shuffling and froze, not at all wanting to be anywhere near those things again. Dean pulled her to crouch behind him, since the way the car and truck were parked made it so they couldn't be snuck up on from behind and she'd be safer there than in the open.

A glance under the truck confirmed her worst fear and she tapped his shoulder in an attempt to get his attention. He only turned his head to shush her and she inaudibly groaned, not at all prepared to die because he wouldn't look to see what she had seen.

"There's more of them."

"How many more?"

"Gee, I dunno, a fuck ton." She whispered harshly, finally getting him to look under the truck to see what she had seen. He cursed under his breath before signaling her to watch his back while he worked on getting the truck door open quietly. She sat on her knees, not at all ready to have to defend them should one of those things turn and decide to make them lunch. Thankfully she didn't have to this time, because Dean had pulled her into the truck just before one turned to look at her.

"Thank you." He whispered, glancing over the dashboard to see how many were left.

"For what?"

"Letting me know it was a hoard. I would've led us out into a feeding frenzy."

"It's no big deal. We're looking out for each other until you find your group, right?"

While he wanted to ask when it was decided that she was leaving once he had found his brothers, he didn't. He didn't want to possibly spark an argument in such a dangerous situation. If she wanted to leave, he wouldn't stop her as long as she had a good plan of action. His little brother would've liked her though, just based off of the tshirt she was wearing.

"That's right." He whispered, looking over the dashboard to see that the end of the hoard was just about to pass by. "Once they're gone, we'll run through that ditch to that motel."

"Why?"

"Because it's getting dark and there may be food and water."

"There could also be more of those things."

"That's a chance we have to take for temporary shelter, food, and water." He dismissed her concern with reasoning, offering a gentle smile when he saw how unsure she was. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you, alright?"

"Alright." She mumbled, looking down at her bag before she remembered that she had fresh water. "Are you thirsty?"

"You have water?"

"I've got a few bottles. I just remembered."

"Thanks, sweetheart."

"Chelsea."

"What?"

"I have a name, it's Chelsea." She stated as he slowly pushed the door open. He looked back and nodded before sliding out of the truck and extending a hand towards her.

"I don't really do names, but you can call me Dean." He whispered in her ear as she dropped to her feet and she nodded slowly, trying to will away the thoughts about how sexy his voice was coupled with the feeling of his stubbled brushing against her sensitive skin with every syllable he uttered. "Once that last one walks by that green Corolla, we're running so get ready."

She didn't trust her voice so she only nodded, her eyes watching the last cannibal thing as it limped on with its hoard. She almost felt sorry for the creature, since it was falling behind due to a deformed leg, but any remorse was washed away with the reminder that it would turn and eat her in a heartbeat without feeling sorry for her in the slightest.

"Now." Dean prompted, gently grasping her small wrist in his large hand and pulling her along with him. While they ran he offered her little tips to keep her balance while going up and down steel slopes like that and she absorbed it all gratefully. She wasn't expecting him to be too helpful, but she wasn't going to comment and possibly ruin it. "What do you see?"

"Two freely wandering the lot, one in the lobby, and one trapped in that pickup cab."

"Good eye, I didn't see that last one." He praised, gently patting her lower back. "Follow me. Stay down, keep quiet, and please stay close."

Chelsea wasn't sure if she should speak or not, so she only nodded and followed him to the edge of the lot, pressing herself against the building beneath the window. She watched their back, despite really wanting to watch Dean, and made sure that nothing snuck up on them until Dean pulled her into the lobby and quickly took care of the thing in there. There was only one key on the hook and it was for the "Honeymoon Suite", something she got a chuckle out of when she took it off the hook before being pulled to the ground by Dean.

"That back door is wide open and I need you to crawl for it."

"What?"

"Take this and go. I'm right behind you." He assured, handing her his gun before gently pushing her in the direction of the door. She wasn't sure what he had heard or seen, but she wasn't about to tell him that she'd never used- or even held- a gun before in her life. So she crawled as quickly and as quietly as she could, getting out the door just before the front door was thrown open. She heard cussing and arguing, which dissolved into the general sounds of a fist fight. This one just sounded a little uneven.

* * *

><p>When Dean came to he was laying in a bed and Chelsea was wrapping his hand up. It took a moment for his vision to focus, but he had to admit that she wasn't bad to look at. Her tshirt had been shed and now she was just in a black tank top while her hair was brushed back into a ponytail. She had a nice body and looked to have been an active gym gore before the world went to hell and he could appreciate that.<p>

"I see that you're finally up."

"Yeah, I- shit!" He cursed upon his attempt to sit up and she quickly placed a hand on his shoulder to wordlessly tell him to stay down for the moment. "Those guys got me good."

"What happened to 'I'm right behind you'?"

"I was. They came in before I could get out and my- god damnit- my fight or flight kicked in."

"First of all, you're not going to be sitting up any time soon. I think a couple of your ribs are broken and you've got to take some of these pain killers before the idea becomes anywhere close to being a good one." Chelsea stated, finishing up his hand before lifting the gauze she had pressed to his stomach where he had been sliced. "I managed to pour some peroxide on the cut, but I need to change the gauze and wrap it up so I need you to take the painkillers soon so I can sit you up."

"How are you so good at this medical shit?"

"I was going to school to a nurse and interned in the E.R before the world went to hell." She spoke softly before looking away from him and finding the sheets much more interesting. "Not that you care. Nobody ever really did."

"You saved my life. Of course I care." Dean argued, keeping his voice down so she didn't feel like he was yelling at her and so that they didn't attract any attention. "What's with the candles?"

"Building power works, but the candles were the safer option with night falling."

"Must have a generator. Hot water?"

"Yeah. I managed to clean around the cut with soap and a washcloth, but you're going to want to get clean everywhere while you can."

"Once I'm in a condition to walk to the bathroom, I'll definitely do that. Why haven't you showered?" He asked, noticing that the only clean part of her at the moment was her hands up to her mid forearms.

"I started washing clothes in the sink when I finished with your major injuries. All your socks are drying by the heater."

"You took my boots off?"

"I had to make sure nothing important was broken. You're good there. Just some bruises that are going to look so nasty. Your finger broke in the beat down, but I reset it and made a splint for it." She explained, gently lifting his arm to show him a big firming bruise on his bicep. He noticed the makeshift splint and the fact that he was shirtless, which didn't bother him too much.

"I'll look tough. Did you wash my shirt, too?"

"I had to cut it off of you." Chelsea murmured, fearing his reaction. "It wasn't much of a shirt anymore, you have to admit, but there's a suitcase in the closet filled with clothes that should fit you. All clean, too."

"Can you get me those pain killers and one of my protein bars?"

"Yeah, those guys took all of your bars." She stated, lifting the gauze to check on his cut. He figured it was to avoid whatever reaction he could've had to that information, which made him wonder briefly if abuse was in her past. As quickly as that thought entered his process he had shooed it away, not wanting to let this woman into his soft side. "But on the bright side I thought to push the vending machines in here and used it to barricade the door."

"How did you manage that?"

"The Pepsi one had wheels and the snack one wasn't too heavy." She stated with a proud smile as she eased off of the large bed, headed towards the machines blocking the door. "What are ya hungry for?"

"Is there anything remotely healthy in there?"

"Nature Valley bars."

"The crunchy ones of the chewy ones?"

"It's your lucky day, they've got both."

"Can I get a chewy one?" He asked before watching her punch in the code that opened the door to the vending machine. "How did you know that?"

"It's written on the back of the machine." She spoke with a smirk, opening the wrapper as she brought it back with a cold looking bottle of water. "I kept the Pepsi machine plugged in because it'll keep the drinks cold and the internal light wasn't working. My water is in the mini fridge down there."

"Good thinking." He praised, watching as she looked at a pill bottle and opened it, pulling out some cotton before shaking out a pill. "What are those?"

"750 of Vicodin. I raided a pharmacy before I left town, since I know what they all do and I wasn't sure what I'd need or not."

"Can you break that in half? A whole pill would get me sick."

"Mhm." She hummed, doing as he asked before closing the bottle back up. When she sat down on the bed, she helped him sit up slightly so he leaned against her and handed him the half a pill and bottle of water. "It's only for while you eat, because you'll choke if you eat while laying down."

"I'll deal with the pain, can you help me sit upright?" Dean requested, getting a sigh out of the redhead. But, even though she strongly disbarred with his request, she moved and quickly pulled him into position and ignored his pained cussing. She then dropped the bar in his lap and went into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her and leaving him confused. Very confused.

Chelsea's head hurt with all of the conflicting things she was feeling. She knew that Dean probably wanted absolutely nothing to do with her and she couldn't blame him, since he had a group and brothers to get back to and she was just some stranger he didn't have to save. She was trying so hard to keep herself distanced from the attractive blonde, since she knew that once he had his group he would be done with her and throw her to the side like everybody else had done in the past.

Before and after the apocalypse.

Pushing him away would make it hurt less when the time actually came for her to face the music and the knowledge that without Dean her survival chances dropped significantly and she'd probably be dead within the first two days. She could live with that, but she hoped her death was caused by an accidental shot to the head because she didn't want to be one of those things. She couldn't.

"Y'know, if you're going to hide in the bathroom, you should lock the door." Dean informed as he limped into the bathroom, not at all surprised when Chelsea shot to her feet and looked scared. "I'm going to need stitches, aren't I?"

"I already took care of the stab wound. You were out for a while and out like a light so I took advantage and did the more painful things."

"Can you help me in the bath? A shower might be out of the question for me right now but I feel so dirty and-"

"Uh, yeah... Sure. You sit down, and I'll start the water and find some soap and a towel."

Dean only nodded and watched as she moved around the bathroom, taking a moment to appreciate her ass in those jeans. They were nice jeans and she had a very nice ass. They complimented each other perfectly and he had a lot of appreciation for that.

"I hope you don't mind Twilight Woods."

"What's that?"

"It's by Bath and Body Works. Here, smell." She tipped the bottle towards his nose, biting back a laugh when it scrunched up. "I'm kidding, this is mine. There was some Old Spice in that suitcase."

"Thank god."

"Let's get your pants off." Chelsea stated, holding her hands out to him. He was hesitant about her ability to support his weight but remembered that she got him up to this room and placed his hands in hers. He eased onto his feet, trying not to make any faces of pain as he moved. He wasn't expecting her to undo his belt and pants, but she did and he had to will away any erection that wanted to spring to life. She was on her knees in front of him and he placed his hands on her shoulders while she pulled his pants down.

Once he was in the tub, his body felt better but both grimaced at how quickly the water color changed from clear to greyish brown and Chelsea pulled the stopper out and started the shower. She took the nozzle off and started scrubbing the dirt from his hair, not excited to see the condition of her hair when she finally showered.

"Please don't stop scratching my head." He requested, bringing a smile onto the redhead's face. She only squirted the shampoo onto his head before lathering one-handedly, her other hand using the nozzle to continue getting the dirt off of his body.


	3. Cuddle Party?

Dean watched as Chelsea checked the windows for the fifth time in ten minutes. She was driving him crazy, but he wasn't going to say anything mean about it. After everything she did for him, he didn't want to piss her off and make her want to leave while he was vulnerable. He didn't want to admit it but right now he needed her.

"Are you looking for something?"

"There's a lot of them out there." She spoke quietly, looking back at him. The jeans and wifebeater look looked really well on him, and it was mouth watering in her opinion. He had been moving around better after his shower/bath and she assumed it was the warm water mixed with the Vicodin kicking in. He came to stand beside her, looking out the window to see that the hoard must've come back.

"We'll wait 'em out." He decided, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You've got nothing to worry about."

"You're right."

"Damn straight. Go shower and get some sleep, you look exhausted."

Chelsea only nodded, going to the purple suitcase in the room and pulling things out before she went into the bathroom. Dean waited until he heard the shower start to move the vending machines out of the way. He wanted a drink and knew that there was some alcohol in the lobby, if those assholes from earlier didn't take it already. His confidence was something that he knew would get him killed one of these days, but he was too dead set on needing something to boost his BAC if he was going to be holed up in the Honeymoon Suite with skittish and sometimes silent Chelsea. He didn't want to get to know her at first, especially now since she wasn't planning on sticking around, and she probably wasn't going to be interested in getting to know him. This was why he needed the alcohol. To keep him occupied and kill some of the pain in his body because he wasn't going to become reliant on pill.

He was decent at ducking and dodging through the slower moving ones and he got into the main office alright, finding a bottle of Jack and an unopened bottle of Smirnoff.

Chelsea seems like a vodka kinda girl. He mused before picking his switchblade up off the floor and pocketing it with the bottle of Jack. But now his problem was that he had to get back to the room and some of the things had entered the lobby. "Damnit, Ambrose."

He just hoped Chelsea was taking a long shower.

* * *

><p>After her shower, Chelsea had changed into a pair of yoga pants and a Deftones tshirt that had been left behind by whoever the honeymooners were before the world went to hell. She had only heard heard of the band and never heard their music, but she didn't exactly mind because the shirt fit just right. The upside was definitely the clean socks. The downside was that Dean had disappeared.<p>

_It was bound to happen. Can't say that I blame him. _But what she found odd was the fact that all of his stuff was there, yet he had left. She would've thought that he would've taken his things, but maybe he was just being nice and giving her things to help her get by since her survival skills were obviously lacking. Or maybe he just forgot? Dean didn't seem like the type to be forgetful, but maybe he forgot things when he was in a rush? He didn't know how long her shower would take. But the gun was still on the nightstand. Forgetful or not, wouldn't leave without that.

Chelsea jumped when she heard banging on the door, but quickly composed herself and grabbed the gun. Having it in her hand scared her, but she'd learn to use it real quick if it came down to it.

"He's probably just drilling me." Chelsea decided, taking a deep breath as she walked to get the door. Only she didn't see the handsome face she was expecting when she opened the door. Instead it was one of those things, who lunged at her the second the door was open. She could only scream as she ducked out of the way before she ran for the bathroom, cradling the gun close while she held her body up against the door. She knew that the sound of her screams would've attracted more and her lack of body weight wouldn't be enough to keep them at bay. This knowledge had he half tempted to put the gun to her head and end it all before she was put through the massive pain of being eaten.

* * *

><p>Dean heard Chelsea's scream and it was almost like all coherent thought flew out the window. He was driven by his need to protect her, to not let her down like he had let down Renee. He couldn't have another woman's blood on his hands. He wouldn't.<p>

Without thinking, he broke the vodka bottle on the edge of the counter so he had a weapon that would do what he needed it to do. It lodged nicely into the forehead of the first thing to cross his path, and he utilized the protection he got from the thick tape on his fists to throw punches at the others in the lobby until he got to the back door and slammed it shut. There were some outside but they were few and far between, giving him enough space to weave through to the staircase. The thing lingering on the landing was tipped over onto the concrete below as he ran up the stairs, his blood pumping and adrenaline flowing through his system. He could hear Chelsea's screams and dashed down the walkway to their suite, instantly seeing what had been terrorizing his companion. It had gotten into the bathroom and he quickly crossed the room, pulling his switch from his pocket as he did so, and drove the blade through the thing's head before tossing it to the side.

He saw Chelsea sitting in the bathtub, holding the gun tightly in her hands as tears were threatening to flow from those hazel eyes. He mumbled a "stay put", before taking the gun from her and tucking it into the waistband of his jeans so he had it while he drug the thing out of their room. Chelsea did exactly as he said and watched him effortlessly drag the corpse away until he left her line of sight. A gunshot was heard soon after, followed by the door locking and furniture sliding. It wasn't too long before he reentered the bathroom and she got a good look at the red on his taped fists, knowing that it wasn't his blood.

"Are you alright?" He asked softly, expecting her to yell at him. He deserved to be yelled at, punched even, for the bullshit he just pulled and he half expected her to. But instead she just wrapped her arms around his neck and cried into his chest, which was completely unexpected. But he didn't pull back. He stood there, wrapped an arm around her waist, and placed a hand on the back of her head while she cried. He imagined that it was just the shock of being left, attacked, and almost killed that had her in such a state and knew it was all his fault. "I'm so sorry, Chelsea."

"You left."

"I thought I'd be back before you got out of the shower."

"Why would you leave without telling me?" She asked, pulling away from him and wiping at her eyes. "What was so important that you had to go and leave me vulnerable?"

"Chelsea-"

"Actually, I don't want to know." She decided, gently pushing him away from her before looking to his hands. "What the hell did you do?"

"I heard you scream from the lobby so I did what I had to so I could help you." He explained simply, watching as she undid the tape covering his left hand.

"You punched zombies? Were you bitten?"

"Nah, the tape was good protection."

"Absolutely ridiculous." She muttered under her breath, tossing the bloodied tape away before getting started on his right hand.

* * *

><p>She watched quietly as he wandered the room. She suspected that he was looking at possible escape routes and let him go, her eyes watching his ass more than anything else. Those jeans fit him well.<p>

"You can get some sleep, Chelsea." He assured, looking back to see her sitting up and watching him. She looked absolutely exhausted.

"How do I know you won't leave again?" She muttered bitterly, slight edge to her tone, which made him sigh as he stopped walking.

"I deserved that. But you need your rest."

"And so do you. Why do you keep circling the room?" She asked the one question that had been on her mind for the last ten minutes. He took one last look out of the blinds before blowing out the one lit candle in the room. She felt the bed shift to her left and soon felt his body heat radiating off of him.

"I was making sure everything was sealed up tight. Never hurts to double check. Especially now."

"I can appreciate that."

"Tell me a bit about yourself." He stated, feeling her tense up beside him. Obviously she didn't want to talk about herself.

"You're serious?"

"Sure, why not? By the looks of things out there, we're going to be holed up in here for at least another night. Why be strangers about it?"

"You know my name and what I did for a living, what else is there to know?" She asked, fighting back a yawn. Dean heard it and frowned, but he wasn't going to say anything. She was fighting sleep for a reason, and he didn't think that it was fear of him leaving.

"Cooperate with me a bit, please."

"What where you before shit hit the fan?"

"I was a personal trainer. Ran a gym with my brothers."

"The cargo pants had me thinking S.W.A.T." Chelsea admitted with a small smile, bringing a smile onto Dean's face. They were making progress.

"That would've been cool. But those pants are just comfortable."

"I'll wash them tomorrow." Chelsea spoke softly before letting out a yawn. "Excuse me."

"You can get some sleep, y'know. I'm not going anywhere, I promise." To prove his point, Dean toed out of his boots and got comfortable beneath the comforter. Chelsea watched as he shimmied into a laying position, then looked to the door warily. "Nothing is coming through, or going out, of that door without making a shit ton of noise. I rigged it."

"You're certain?"

"That was my specialty in the group. Rigging makeshift security systems. Trust me."

He got no answer, but watched as she slowly laid down beside him. It was obvious that she was trying to keep her distance, but he knew that wouldn't be possible when she started shaking. He hoped it was cold shaking and not terrified-to-go-to-sleep shaking. He could deal with both, but cold shaking was easier to deal with.

"C'mere."

"I'm fine." Chelsea mumbled, pulling the blanket up to her chin.

Stubborn woman. Dean thought to himself with a slight frown, mimicking her action and shutting his eyes. He wasn't going to sleep, but he'd let her believe that he was. "My offer stands."

"And so does my answer."

That wasn't the case four hours later, when he heard her mumble some curses before turning over and laying her head on his chest. He smirked to himself as he gently pat her back, desperately wanting to say something smart to her. But he held back, kept his arm around her waist, and began to rub her back slowly.

"Knew you'd come around."

"Shut up and hold me."

He couldn't help the chuckle that left his lips and Chelsea couldn't help but blush at how forward she was. That wasn't her, not anymore, but Dean was pulling that side out of her and it scared her. Scratch that, it terrified her. Her attitude almost got her killed, there's no way she'd willingly become that person again. They all start out nice, but Dean could turn out to be just like Tyler. The first few meetings are the trial run and then goes south once you get comfortable.

"What's wrong?"

"Hm?"

"You're shaking. What's wrong?"

"Nothing I... I'm fine." She lied, glancing up at his face to see that he wasn't convinced. "Goodnight."

"Night."


	4. Corvette

"Did you see him?"

"For the last time, pup, no I didn't." The Samoan sighed as he stepped down from the ladder. Their group was currently holding the top floor of a department store, waiting for their brother to meet up with them. That was their initial plan before the hoard split them up. The two toned man worried himself incessantly over their missing brother, and the Samoan would be lying if he said he wasn't worried. Their brother could be a bit...eccentric at times, and could shut down if he got overwhelmed. He hadn't shut down since the apocalypse started, but now that they were apart anything could happen to the "middle child" of their group. He just hoped that Dean could keep his wits about him long enough to make it.

"I just hope he's okay, Roman."

"Seth, he's fine. This is Dean we're talking about. He's on his way here."

"What if he's not, though?" Seth asked, raising his voice a bit. Roman quickly hushed him when he noticed that the other members of their group had taken notice of their conversation. "When we went back, we found Renee and she had turned. What if he turned too?"

"Dean would kill himself before he turned. But he's fine, okay?" Roman stated, turning to the group. "Don't worry, you guys. He'll be here."

"But what if he doesn't?"

"Nat, don't-"

"No, Tyson. I want to know. What do we do if Dean doesn't show?" "Nat" asked, pushing Tyson off of her so she could approach Seth and Roman. "We can't stay here forever."

"We have enough stuff to last us a couple weeks now that our travel packs are set. Once the food runs out, we'll head to our next checkpoint and leave a note for him so he can find us if he shows after we move on." Roman decided, gently touching the blonde's shoulder. She nodded, wiping away the tears before they could fall down her face. Seth pulled her into a hug, letting her cry on his shoulder.

These two were the leaders of their group, waiting patiently for their brother to return. Neither was ready to even admit that there was a possibility that their brother was dead- or worse, walking around craving human flesh. Neither wanted to think about it because neither was sure that they could take the shot despite the pact they had made. He was still their brother, and ending his life was something they would never be prepared to do, pact or no pact.

"Am I the only one who thinks its ridiculous that we're sitting here with our thumbs up our asses waiting for a man who's probably dead!?" Tyson shouted, standing from where he sat in the patio chair and looking around at their group. The red haired woman stood, hazel eyes set in a cold stare as she stared down the Canadian man. "Eva, you agree with me?"

"No, I don't think it's ridiculous that we're waiting on the man who is the reason why half of us are still alive right now." She argued, glancing to Seth and Roman to let them know that she had this covered. "Dean almost died saving you from that crawler when you were acting an ass on the highway, not to mention the fact that he saved both you and your wife from being torn to shreds when you joined our group."

"That was then-" Tyson tried defending himself, but Eva wasn't done.

"Dean Ambrose is the man who distracted the hoard so we could get away. The least you could do is show a little bit of respect for him and the men who are family to him. If you can't, then you can leave."

"You think I won't?" Tyson asked, looking to Roman when the Samoan stepped forward.

"Nobody is going anywhere. Let's all calm down, because fighting won't get us anywhere." He stated calmly, gently pushing Eva back before she slapped the taste out of Tyson's mouth. "But I do suggest you watch your tone, because we're not going to stand for you bad mouthing Dean anymore."

"Whatever, you guys. You can keep waiting on a dead man, but I'm leaving."

"Tyson!" Nattie argued, pulling away from Seth to step towards her husband. "You're being ridiculous."

"Besides, the only way out requires the ability to fly if you're going to survive." Seth commented, glaring at Tyson as a now sobbing Nattie was pulled away by Eva.

"That means he'll throw you off the roof." Roman stated, curious as to what Tyson was going to say. The Canadian looked scared, which was what they wanted.

"This is bullshit."

"Take your opinion and shove it up your ass, because you're the I my person who feels that way." Seth called after Tyson before looking to Roman. The Samoan had a disapproving look on his face, but Seth wasn't sure what he was more upset about.

"We need to keep an eye on him."

* * *

><p>"This is a bad idea." Chelsea muttered, looking back at Dean from where she stood on the balcony of their current sanctuary. There weren't as many things on the back side of the motel as there were in the parking lot, but she was still wary about being down there.<p>

"It's a great idea. Trust me, Chels."

That was another thing she was wary about. He had started giving her little nicknames and terms of endearment like "Chels" and "sweetheart". Those meant familiarity and familiarity meant attachment. She didn't want attachment or any signs of it because she was always quick to get attached and then was always hurt more when she was tossed aside. Starting when she was a kid and the cycle continued to repeat itself and she was certain that it'd never stop. Not until that cycle had her killed somehow.

"Chelsea."

"Huh?" She asked, blinking rapidly along with the snapping of his fingers in front of his face. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine, sweetheart."

Damn. She thought to herself, unable to resist smiling back at him. He just had that dimple and it was so cute. She couldn't not smile at that.

"You ready?"

"You're certain that I'm not going to fall?" She asked, looking at the rope he had made from the spare bedsheets in their room. He seemed confident, but that didn't mean that she couldn't be concerned.

"You'll be fine. I'm gonna lower you down since they're not paying attention to us, and you run for the corvette to see if it's in good shape."

"Why would a corvette be in a dump like this?"

"Why are you asking such questions in post-apocalyptic America?" He answered her question with a question before helping her over the balcony railing. "Anything is possible right now. Grab the sheet one hand at a time and use your legs for extra grip on the way down so you don't just drop."

"That would be bad." She whispered, her grip on his hands never loosening. He was still holding tightly onto hers and she appreciated that he was waiting for her to be ready. "You'll cover me?"

"If anything gets too close, I'll drop them. But if I shoot I need you to run for the sheet so I can pull you back up."

"Because the sound will attract the others."

"Exactly." He whispered, his eyes watching her hands closely as she slowly released his left hand to grip the sheet just below where he had tied it to the railing. It gave a creak of protest, but he assured her that it wasn't going to give out. "You're doing fine, Chelsea."

He continued to praise her quietly while she made her way down, smirking in victory when she landed on her feet and began to make her way to the corvette parked by the back fence. He had his gun out and was taking careful aim at the ones that could pose a threat to her, but not one had noticed her. He thought it was strange, but rejoiced when she had no trouble opening the door to the corvette and sliding into the car. He watched her dig around for the keys and saw her look to the back seat before turning to get a better look at something. Eventually she came out of the car holding what looked like a twelve gauge and and he realized then that he'd have to teach her to shoot.

"Keys?" He asked quietly, watching as she came closer.

"That's a negatory." She responded, looking to her left to see that she had grabbed the attention of a thing lurking nearby. "I don't think I can climb with this."

"Try, Chels. You can do it."

Stop calling me that. She mentally complained, grabbing the sheet-rope as high up as she could with her free hand and using the lowest knot as a foothold. She was able to extend her other arm enough for Dean to pull the shotgun out of her grasp just before a bony hand gripped her ankle.

"Fuck!" Chelsea unintentionally shouted, trying her best to kick at the thing while Dean started pulling the sheet-rope up. While trying to get the thing to let her go, she marveled at Dean's strength since he was pulling two bodies up until she was close enough for him to grab and pull over with one arm. Once she was held tight to his body, Dean used the butt of the shotgun to whack the thing's head until it let her go, sending both barreling onto balcony while the undead creature fell to the cement below.

"You okay?" Dean asked once his body recovered from the initial shock of the impact. Chelsea only laid ontop of him, trying to compose herself enough to speak. "Chels?"

"I will be. Thanks for that."

"Thanks for trusting me enough to go down there."

"I never want to do that again."

"Next time you won't be alone."

"When is next time?" She asked quietly, slowly moving off of him and leaning against the sliding glass door.

"When you decide that I'm fit enough for travel." He stated, mimicking her action and looking over just in time to see her face twist in confusion. "You understand what's going on with my body right now much better than I do."

"I'll check your ribs later. You're moving around pretty well."

"I have a good doctor."

"I'm not that great." Chelsea mumbled before standing up, extending a hand to him. "And I was a nurse."


	5. Prayer

"Guess what I found in the love bird suitcase?" Dean asked, giving the answer away when he gave the key ring in his hand a little shake. The jingling sound brought Chelsea's attention away from the blank television screen and he looked at her in slight concern. She had been zoning in and out a lot lately and, as much as it was bothering him, he had decided not to comment. But they were about to start packing up so they could leave for the shopping center at dawn. She couldn't zone out on him when they could possibly have things coming at them from all sides. "I was trying to to push, but I've gotta know what's on your mind, Chelsea."

"For someone who doesn't 'do names'," Chelsea started, using her fingers to make air quotes. "you use mine a lot."

"I made that comment before you saved my ass. Things changed." He explained simply, sitting beside her on the bed and noting the way she tried comforting herself by bringing her knees up to her chest. That's how she had slept the night before, curled up in a ball with his arms wrapped around her, and it bothered him. "You know I'm not going to hurt you, right?"

"That's what you all say, but you know what you all do? Hurt me and then leave me to believe that I asked for it to be that way."

"I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm different from whatever shitheads were in your life and I don't appreciate being grouped into that category."

"Well I'm sorry, but people in my life tend to follow a trend. They come in really nice and make me trust them, and then the verbal abuse starts and, if I'm lucky, it'll get physical a few times and I get to lie and say that I fell, and then the best part, they toss me aside like the trash that I am." Chelsea ranted, pulling her legs closer as Dean thought it all through.

_I thought she was saying "Tyler please" in her sleep because of some kinky sex dream. But that must've been a nightmare._ Dean thought to himself, soft frown on his face. Chelsea watched for a moment before going to stand up, but Dean caught her wrist and pulled her into him gently.

"Dean?"

"I'm sorry that nobody ever showed you just how incredible you are." He whispered, holding her close to his chest. She could hear his heart beating and couldn't help but smile at his words while her cheeks dusted that familiar shade of pink. She wished that he'd stop making her blush.

"It's alright, I'm not that great anyways." Dean didn't like that she could just blow off his words so easily, but it made sense to him why she could. She had probably spent her whole life so far being told that she was inadequate, that it probably just programmed her blow off compliments.

"Chelsea, I'm serious. You're an amazing person whether or not you see it, because I definitely do." He spoke softly, pulling back so he could get a good look at her. Her face was clean and her green eyes were tired, but she still looked good. "And absolutely stunning."

"You're just saying that because I'm the only woman around you. A horse is prettier than me Dean, so don't lie to my face just because you're thinking with your dick."

"God damnit, Chelsea." Dean groaned before taking initiative and doing what he'd wanted to do since he almost for her killed for a bottle of Jack. He gently held onto her chin and pressed his lips to hers. "That was all for you, and there's plenty more where that came from."

"What?"

"We've gotta start packing up if we're gonna leave at dawn and catch a little bit of sleep." Dean spoke softly, still holding onto her chin. She nodded, bringing her hand up to his arm and gently holding his wrist. "I know you think that you're leaving once we find my group, but I'm telling you now that I'm not going to let you go out there without me."

"Your group won't want me around. I'm just-"

"You'd be more help to us than Nattie, Eva, and Naomi combined." Dean reasoned, removing his hand from her chin so he could hold her hand in his. "Just cooperate with me and stay. Please."

"I'll think about it." She whispered, still not certain but not wanting to disappoint him too much. He looked so hopeful and she didn't want to crush his hopes because that was the best thing anybody could have in the world right now. Hope. And, if she had to be honest, Chelsea was losing more hope every day that went by. Slowly but surely, her reasons to live were decreasing and she knew that she'd be out of reasons by the time Dean had healed up. If she didn't go with his group she had decided that she'd end things so she didn't have to suffer alone anymore. Dean didn't say anything in response to her statement, but he kissed her forehead and pulled her in for a close hug. Chelsea figured that it was how he said thank you. "Are we taking the suitcases?"

"Why not? It's not like we're walking anymore. We've got a fucking corvette." Dean laughed before standing and heading for the suitcases. "It seemed like all this guy wore were wifebeaters. There's one regular shirt, but it's a Kanye shirt and I wouldn't be caught dead in that."

She couldn't help the giggle that escaped her lips when he scrunched his nose in obvious distaste. How could she not find that cute? He, of course, heard her giggling and turned to face her with mock offense written on his face. She quickly turned to hide her face from him, cheeks flushing at being caught.

"Problem?"

"None at all. But I think we're passed the point of being picky over what we wear." Chelsea commented, standing and heading for the other suitcase.

"Yeah, but you can say that because you got the good shit." He commented, opening the purple suitcase and flipping through the shirts inside. "Deftones and plain shirts."

"I've never listened to their music."

"You missed out. Hopefully the lovebirds had a couple CDs. Super hopeful that they had White Pony."

"Is that a cocaine reference?"

"Of course it is." He chuckled, looking to see her shake her head with a small smile. "Don't hate on it."

"I'm not. So are we packing up food and stuff when we're about to leave?"

"Yeah. Keep the water cold for just a while longer."

"That's a good..." Chelsea started, trailing off when she heard a banging against the door. Her eyes went straight to Dean, watching as his whole body tensed and fists clenched.

"Blow out the candles and then I want you right behind me." He instructed, noticing the look in her eyes. It was like she wasn't even there with him, like she wasn't there at all. He was worried, more about her than the potential threat outside. She couldn't shut down on him, not now and not ever. He needed to keep her level with him, keep her sane, because he needed her to keep him level and sane. She was much more than a pretty face and medical care to him now. "Chelsea."

"Huh?"

"Bathroom." He changed his instruction, pulling his gun from his waistband and gently taking her hand in his and giving a gentle squeeze when the banging started up again. She looked terrified, and rightfully so. Their lives were in danger. "Actually, no. Throw the water in my duffle since it's empty and head for the balcony. We're getting the hell out of here."

"We know you're in there!" A man's voice called, the voice making Chelsea's eyes widen.

"Is that Tyler?"

"Come on, uggos! Don't waste my time!" At that, Chelsea could only nod. She recognized that term all too well and Dean could see it in her eyes.

"I've got the keys in my pocket. You have to go down first and I'll toss the suitcases down before climbing down and then we'll get the hell out of here." He decided, trying to get some kind of reaction other than fear out of his companion. Again, she only nodded before going to do as he said. Dean went and blew out all the candles before glancing out at the balcony. Whatever was out back the day before had been attracted by whoever was in the front parking lot and he rejoiced as he tossed the sheet rope over the balcony.

"Dean, I can't get them all to fit."

"We'll ration. It's just us, we'll be okay." He assured, grabbing the bag and zipping it as he crossed back to the balcony. She followed behind, suitcases in tow and not saying a single word.

_God, if you exist. I need you to do me a solid._ He started his prayer, dropping the duffle to the ground below as the banging on the door got louder. He could tell that more people were on the other side of the door, and Chelsea was slowly shutting down. _Get us out of here in one piece and please please please keep Chelsea level. I need her more than she thinks I do, especially now._

"Ready?" He asked, carelessly tipping the black suitcase over the railing. Chelsea nodded, swinging her leg over the rail before he helped her the rest of the way. She was quicker to make the transition to the rope than the last time and Dean used the time while she was climbing to tip the purple suitcase over.

Chelsea only climbed halfway down before dropping the rest of the way, grabbing the duffle and black suitcase and running for the corvette. Getting the door open was easy, and she used the time while Dean was climbing down to push the front seat open and put the bags in the trunk since he had popped it open before making his descent. She heard footsteps behind her and froze, but relaxed when she heard his voice.

"Go buckle up. We've got to haul ass and hope that they don't follow."


	6. Trailer Park

Dean watched as Chelsea slept in the passenger's seat of the corvette. She needed the rest, and he'd happy let her sleep. His body was more accustomed to lack of sleep than hers, he assumed, so he'd be fine behind the wheel for a couple more hours. The night had gradually faded into daylight, and Dean knew it was just a matter of time before he made it to the shopping center where his group was supposed to be and he couldn't wait to be back with his brothers.

Chelsea would fit in well with the women of their group. They were all self-sufficient when they needed to be and Nattie had been trying hard to find a doctor or somebody with just a shred of medical training to look at her husband's knee. He had injured it a couple years ago and she felt as though he injured it again, but nobody was able to tell because he had been walking on it fine for the most part. Roman would appreciate having a trained nurse around for his peace of mind.

If only he could get her to understand that he wanted her to stick around.

He wouldn't feel right knowing that she was out there on her own. She could hardly handle herself and now that she knew that this Tyler asshole from her past(who he certainly wanted to stab in the eye repeatedly with a very dull blade) was still alive, she was at risk of shutting down while in a dangerous position like she did when that asshole knocked on their motel room door. Anything could happen to her while she was on her own, and he really just wanted to protect her from it all.

She hadn't even left him yet, but he was already worrying himself about her.

"Where are we?" Chelsea mumbled as she sat up and gave an attempt at stretching without obstructing his vision at all. "How long was I out?"

"We are on a road, and you were out for a couple hours."

"Why would you let me sleep so long?"

"You needed your rest. It's no big deal, sweetheart." Dean assured, smiling over at her. Unfortunately, he missed the thing that wandered onto the road and it wasn't until Chelsea grabbed the wheel to swerve around it that he noticed. "Shit, sorry Chelsea."

"It's fine. Just keep your eyes on the road please, Dean."

"Will do. Thanks for making the save."

Chelsea only nodded, too perplexed that she had actually saved Dean's life for a second time. She saved him, and not the other way around. It gave her a sense of being needed, and made her feel like she needed to be with Dean for a while. At least until she figured out how to function without him. Then she'd hit the road. He'd never notice anyway. At least, not at first. It always took somebody a week to realize that she was gone.

"What are you thinking about?" Dean asked quietly, keeping his eyes on the road like she had requested.

"Just wondering when you're going to let me drive." Chelsea covered, smiling over at him as he thought about it. She didn't notice the car slowing to a stop until it actually stopped and Dean shut it off.

"You really want to drive?"

"I really want you to get some sleep." She gave her true motive, her smile never fading. Being honest, she hated driving with a deep passion. She could drive, and she was pretty good at it, but she hated how unpredictable other drivers were. But Dean and his health meant more to her than her hatred of the road and she was willing to get over herself for a few hours so he could get some much-needed rest. "Please, Dean. You know you need it."

"Alright. Just wake me up when you start seeing signs for the city."

Driving in post apocalyptic America was boring. She didn't understand why she thought something exciting would come out of this. All she saw were lingering zombies in the fields and the occasional abandoned car. Not to mention the blue sky mocking her. She wanted it to rain so badly, and here they were in the sunshine.

The CD Dean had put in wasn't too bad. It certainly wasn't her first choice in music, but it wasn't bad and Dean and sounded so excited when he found it in the glovebox. It helped him sleep, too, and probably gave him some sense of who he used to be before the apocalypse started. She couldn't take that from him, but she certainly turned it down a bit so they wouldn't attract anything.

She had done her job, driving along and keeping the car in one piece while did so. But she hadn't seen a single sign for the city and it was nearing dusk. There was no way that she missed a turn, because the road had given no opportunities to do so. She found herself fearing what Dean would say or do, but she knew that she'd take whatever he dished out.

"Dean, it's getting dark. What are we going to do?" She asked loudly, waking her companion as she stopped the car and turned it off. When he turned to look at her, he glanced ahead and quickly pulled her down so that they couldn't be seen by the car that passed by.

"We're going to find somewhere to stop for the night. Driving in the dark isn't going to get us anywhere but potentially in an accident." He decided, sitting up and allowing her to do the same. "Do you want me to drive?"

"I'm good. Really." She added when he looked unconvinced. "Just tell me where to go."

* * *

>"Seems harmless enough." Chelsea mumbled as she looked around at the RV park Dean had asked her to stop at. He didn't want to stay there, he assured her repeatedly, but he did want to look around and see what they could find. Most of the trailers and RVs must've high tailed when the world went to shit, but a few did remain. Not many, but she hoped that the occupants had turned and abandoned their homes.<p><p>

"Stay quiet and stay close to me, please. We don't know what's out here." Dean whispered his instruction, handing her his switchblade before pulling the twelve-gauge from the backseat. She only nodded her agreement, gently shutting the door as she started to follow Dean down the dirt path. She had grown accustomed to the quiet around them, hearing only their footsteps crunching in the dirt despite the sinking feeling that they were being watched. She knew that if there was a thing around, it would've lunged for them already and it definitely wouldn't have been quiet as it stalked.

Dean gave a whistle to test the waters, knowing that it would attract anything in the area and he was ready for it. Chelsea, on the other hand, was nowhere close to ready and looked at him as if he had grown a second head. Especially when he lowered his gun. You didn't put your gun down after whistling in the zombie apocalypse.

"What the hell?" She whispered, looking around them as he looked back at her.

"Someone is watching us. Whistling would let them know that we're human, and I hope they get the gist that we're harmless."

"What if they're not harmless?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it." He assured, looking to the left when a flashlight clicked on and off from a nearby trailer. It was almost as if it were some kind of code, but to Dean it was a different language. Chelsea, on the other hand, was raised by a military wanna-be alcoholic of a father, so she knew exactly what whoever in the trailer was trying to say.

"They want you to set your gun on the ground." She whispered once there was a pause, she assumed they were giving them time to translate a decide their plan of action. She was surprised when Dean did as asked without question or hesitation, and she dropped the switchblade to the ground as well just in case. It was then that the clicks started up again, but were too rapid for her to follow.

"Now what?"

"I'm not sure. They're going way too fast for me to decode."

"You can pick up your weapons now." A man called from their left, prompting Dean to push Chelsea behind him as he turned to face the guy. "Relax, we're not gonna hurt you or your girl."

Dean wasn't convinced, but he tried his best to relax as the large man came closer. He was easily two inches taller and probably had about forty pounds on him, which meant that Dean was going to keep an eye on him while they were together.

"I'm Jack."

"Dean." He responded simply, shaking the man's hand before stepping out of the way so Chelsea could do the same. "Thanks for not killing us on the spot."

"We go by a pact in this camp. We don't kill the living unless they cause us harm first." Jack explained before gesturing for them to follow him. "Zeb leads us, and he's the one with the flashlight in the Winnebago."

"How many of you are there?" Chelsea asked quietly, not even noticing Dean gently take hold of her hand when they started up the steps of the Winnebago. Jack knocked in a sequence before the door was pulled open, a short old man who she assumed was Zeb standing in the doorway.

"Are you two american citizens?"

Chelsea, unsure of what to say or do, simply rattled off her social security number without thinking twice. All three men simply stared at her for a moment before Zeb looked to Dean, who quickly did the same. This made Zeb smile before letting them into the Winnebago and gesturing for them to take a seat at the small booth table. Dean leaned the twelve-gauge against a wall before taking his switch back from Chelsea and pocketing it, allowing her to sit down first before boxing her in.

"This is Dean and Chelsea." Jack introduced, watching Zeb carefully as he sat down in the booth before joining the three.

"I'm Zeb Colter." He introduced himself formally, nodding to the two before looking to Jack. "What are you two doing here?"

"We were initially scavenging for supplies, since we didn't know this was a camp." Dean spoke honestly, squeezing Chelsea's knee to silently assure her that they were going to be okay. "We'll leave if that's what you want."

"We can't have you two out on the road in the dark. Wouldn't sit well on my conscious." Zeb declined, bringing a small smile out of Chelsea. "We have a trailer in the back that isn't being used. Ain't too spacious and there's really only a bed in it, but you can stay in there for the night and leave in the morning. There's just one condition."

"What's that?"

"The shotgun stays with Jack until you two leave."

"You've got a deal." Dean quickly agreed, shaking Zeb's hand with a smile. Chelsea didn't get why he was so accepting of that condition. What if they didn't give it back? It was a risk that Dean was obviously willing to take or probably just not considering to be an option. "Thanks."

"Jack can show you where it's at." Zeb stated, patting Jack on the shoulder as Dean stood and helped Chelsea out of the booth. Jack stood and led the way out of the Winnebago, Dean and Chelsea following close behind and not of them saying a word until the door had shut behind them.

"The trailer is just back there. If one of you can take your car and park it next to the trailer, that'd be pretty cool."

"You and Zeb like making this place look deserted, huh?" Dean asked, nudging Chelsea towards Jack in a silent notion that said he would get the car.

"Nobody likes abandoned trailer parks. The apocalypse certainly didn't change that."

"Damn straight." Dean agreed before turning towards the car. "I'll get the car, you two go on ahead."

"What's it like out there?" Jack asked quietly once Dean was out of earshot. Chelsea looked up at him in surprise as they walked, not expecting that kind of question from somebody.

"It's...bad. If worrying about the dead people trying to eat you isn't enough, you also get to worry about whatever alive people may be out there. We got lucky with you and Zeb, but everybody isn't so nice." She spoke softly, tucking a loose piece of hair behind her ear. Jack nodded, letting his eyes shut for a moment as he relived one of the darkest moments of his life. Chelsea, of course, didn't know that but she knew that he was in a bad spot. "You've seen some bad guys, huh?"

"Yeah."

"You just have to keep pushing through, I guess." She mumbled, placing her hand on his arm when they stopped in front of the trailer. Dean was adjusting his park job and Jack could only nod down at Chelsea.

"Thanks."

"I should be thanking you, Jack. Not the other way around."

"It's okay." He assured as Dean got out of the corvette. "Just get some rest and sleep well, alright? You guys are safe here."

"Thanks, man." Dean called before gently grabbing Chelsea's hand and pulling her into the trailer with him. "It's even clean on the inside."


	7. Split

Chelsea woke to the sun shining through the curtains of the trailer and smiled. She actually slept and, judging by the soft snores coming from behind her, Dean did too. A quick glance over her shoulder told her that Dean was dead to the world for at least a little while longer, and she wanted him to capitalize on that before they had to hit the road. So she removed his arm from her waist and slid from the bed, turning and tucking him in before slipping on her shoes and soundlessly leaving the trailer.

Jack was out and about, a golden retriever dutifully trotting alongside him until the large blonde picked up a stick and lobbed it across the park. It was then that he turned to face the approaching Chelsea, smiling at her warmly.

"Mornin'."

"Good morning." She greeted with a smile, shaking his outstretched hand. "Are mornings always this quiet?"

"Zeb is leading the others in their chores. It'll start to bustle more in about half an hour." Jack explained simply, earning a nod from the redhead. "How's your partner?"

"Sound asleep. I hope you and Zeb don't mind us still being here. Dean probably hasn't slept that well in days and-"

"Relax, sweetheart. Zeb wouldn't make you guys leave unless you were ready to be out on your own or causing trouble." Jack spoke softly, taking the stick from his retriever before throwing it again. "You and your man are safe here."

"Dean isn't my-"

"My bad. But if things don't work out the way you want them to, you guys are welcome here." He assured, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. "Has anybody ever mentioned how pretty you are in the morning light?"

"Not really."

"It's a shame. Beauty like yours should be appreciated."

_Where were you ten years ago?_ Chelsea asked herself, light blush on her cheeks as she smiled up at Jack. The tall blonde was sweet and very attractive, but this was the apocalypse. It wasn't time for her to try to find a suitor. Maybe after she made sure Dean got back to his group in one piece she could come back to Jack and Zeb's camp. If Dean let her go. "Thank you."

"If things don't work out for you and Dean, come back here. You two are always welcome."

"I'll keep that in mind, Jack. Thank you." Chelsea spoke softly, smiling up at him before turning back towards the trailer. "I should get back, Dean might start to panic if he wakes up and I'm not there."

"Wouldn't want that. See you around."

"For sure." Chelsea called as she headed back to the trailer. Upon entering she saw that Dean was sitting up and prodding his still bruised ribs, a look of deep thought on his face as he did so. It was almost cute to Chelsea, but she knew why he was so hurt and she was willing to bet that it was Tyler's group. "Are you alright?"

"I had trouble sitting up. Can you check out my ribs?"

"Were they bothering you at all yesterday?"

"Not too much that I couldn't handle it." She hummed her acknowledgement as she knelt down in front of the bed, her hands coming to rest on his sides gently. Her thumbs gently set to applying pressure to his ribs like she had been taught, paying closer attention to where the bruising was darkest. He winced in certain spots and she couldn't contain her frown, but that was to be expected since she didn't want to see Dean- or anyone, really- in pain. It was why she became a nurse in the first place.

"It's probably just your body reacting to being able to actually lay down and rest again."

"Because the night before we drove all night and my body was adjusted to the upright position." The only response he got was a nod, since she was still poking and prodding him to test his reactions. "Where were you?"

"I was outside talking to Jack."

"Yeah? When do they want us gone?"

"Jack says that Zeb wouldn't force us to leave if we weren't ready. But I think we should go just so you can get to your group." Chelsea reasoned, looking up at him. "They've got to be worried about you, Dean."

"I'm sure they are, but you keep phrasing it like I'm the only one who needs to be with them."

"You're the only one they want."

"They're going to want you, too. Why can't you understand that?"

"Nobody really wants me Dean, they just put up with me."

"I want you around, Chelsea." Dean argued, gently holding her chin so she'd maintain eye contact with him. "Fuck what the others think."

"I don't want to cause a rift in your group."

"You won't. I promise." He whispered, gently kissing her forehead with a smile. They'd be on the road within the hour and it would all be okay. They just needed some time.

* * *

>"Jack was nice." Chelsea mused, leaning against her door so she could look at Dean. He scoffed, alerting her to the fact that he might have something against the handsome blonde. She had no clue what, because he could've killed them on the spot but instead offered them a place to stay. He even made sure to return the shotgun that Dean seemed to have completely forgotten about. "What's wrong?"<p><p>

"I just didn't like how he looked at you." He reasoned, shrugging his shoulders while fiddling with a cigarette that he had gotten from Zeb before leaving. "Like you were meat. It was weird."

"Yeah, well, I dunno about that."

"Don't worry about it. I'm glad he was nice to you."

"Yeah?"

"If he wasn't, I'd turn around and say something to him about it." Dean mumbled, tucking the cigarette behind his ear and smirking over at her.

"You and I both know that we don't have the gas to spare."

"That's why we're heading to a gas station. Zeb told me that it was still pretty full because it was off the beaten track and not many people know it's even there."

"That's neat." Chelsea mumbled, smiling as she fiddled with the hem of her tshirt. Unfortunately, the car slowed to a stop and made noises of protest. "Are we out?"

"Yeah." Dean sighed, gently smacking the steering wheel. "It's not too far from here. You stay here with the car and-"

"Alone?"

"You'll have my gun. Don't worry."

"I don't know how to-"

"Make sure the safety is off, point and shoot." Dean quickly instructed, handing over his handgun and offering a smile of reassurance. "It'll be okay. I promise."

"Alright." Chelsea sighed, looking down at the gun in her hands. "Just, be careful. Please."

"Of course. You've patched me up enough, sweetheart."

"You were right, y'know." Chelsea started, fearing that one of them may not survive to the end of the day and needing to get some things off her chest. "You're not like every other shithead to enter my life and I wanted to apologize for treating you like you were."

"I couldn't hold that shit against you, Chelsea." Dean murmured, gently placing his hand on her thigh. "You were trying to protect yourself and I get that."

Chelsea could only nod, placing one of her hands on his that rest on her thigh. Their smiles were small and mirrored one another's, both gradually leaning in. Dean's free hand slowly moved to cup her cheek, watching as her eyes began to flutter closed.

A groan from nearby startled Chelsea and broke her attention away from Dean and to her window. He looked around her to see a couple zombies heading towards them, but he also saw the car come down the road and stop to dispatch them. A closer look revealed Jack and a couple others from their camp, making Dean inwardly roll his eyes. Chelsea smiled when she saw the blonde, but her hand stayed on Dean's until he got out of the car to thank Jack for his assistance even though he really didn't want to.

"Out of gas?" Jack asked as they shook hands and Dean nodded, looking over to Chelsea as she got out of the car.

"We were headed to the station that Zeb mentioned. Says that we've got half a tank but it must be wrong." Dean commented, eyeing the taller man who got out of the driver's seat of Jack's truck. Chelsea stood close to him, obviously getting bad vibes off of the unfamiliar man.

"You can't trust American cars." Jacks companion spoke in an obviously European accent, chuckling as Jack playfully punched him.

"Shut up, Cesaro. But we can go with you to the station. We were headed there anyways." Jack offered, looking to Chelsea when Dean did. It was obvious tha ran wouldn't do something that she wasn't completely comfortable with.

"Chelsea was going to stay here with the car, but-"

"I'll go with you." "Cesaro" offered, holding his hand out to Dean. The smile on his face was too...cheesy to Chelsea and she wanted to beg Dean not to go. "Jack can keep your girl safe, no worries."

Dean weighed his options for a moment before nodding his approval of the European's idea and shaking his hand. He kissed Chelsea's head before looking to Jack and nodding to the taller man.

Chelsea didn't like that plan. At all. She didn't trust the European, and it looked like Dean was wary of him too. Jack went to the bed of their truck and pulled out a couple gas cans, handing one to each man before wishing them luck and taking the European's rifle for him.

"You know they'll be okay, right?" Jack asked, looking down at the redhead who hadn't stopped watching the backs of the men as they walked.

"No offense, but I don't trust your guy."

"I don't either, which is why I stayed with you." He stated simply, grabbing Chelsea's attention. "He wouldn't have agreed to leaving you by your lonesome and Dean wouldn't have agreed to you coming with us."

"You don't want me alone with him." Chelsea stated, feeling as though she could read Jack's mind at that moment. "What is he capable of?"

"I don't know." Jack mumbled, looking away from her for a moment. "Which is why I don't want to find out. We're gonna follow them, sweetheart, and we're going to watch him."

"You don't think somebody will raid our cars?"

"I've left my truck on the road before and everything stayed in its place. It'll be okay." Jack assured, handing Chelsea the European's rifle and watching as she tucked the handgun into the waistband of her jeans like she had seen Dean do before. "You know how to shoot?"

"Dean gave me a twenty second lesson right before you showed up."

"Aim and shoot?"

"Make sure the safety is off, first." She spoke with a smile, following Jack into the brush in the general direction of the gas station. The brush made way to a path that looked pretty well traveled, Chelsea didn't bother to ask why and just assumed that it was an alternative route to the gas station than the road.

"Have you ever handled a gun before Z-Day?"

"Z-Day?" She questioned, looking up to Jack in curiosity.

"Zombie Day. When the world started going nuts."

"No. My dad was big on guns but never taught me to shoot. I'm good with a blade though."

"That's something." Jack mumbled, smiling down at her. "Where were you on Z-Day?"

"I was in Madrid for a wedding when the first case was seen in Germany." She spoke softly, remembering watching the news right before the ceremony and being absolutely disgusted that somebody would try to eat somebody else at church. "Two weeks before it hit the states. That hospital where the first case was seen in the US? I worked there and was almost the one bitten."

"Why weren't you?"

"Dr. Hale told me that he'd take care of it. But all he got was a bite to the hand during surgery." She explained, looking away from Jack momentarily. "What about you?"

"Back in my hometown, it's a pretty small one, the doctors just decided that it was a fever and would pass." Jack started, adjusting his rifle as they continued to walk. "Both my parents got sick and I was taking care of them like their doctor said to, but they gradually kept getting sicker until eventually my mom passed. My dad went into shock and it gave him a heart attack twenty minutes later."

"That must've been hard for you to go through."

"It gets worse, though." He mumbled, his grip on the rifle progressively getting tighter. "We did autopsy and funeral stuff all that day. My family was pretty big in Perry, so we always got precedence. It was during their funeral, the whole town was crammed into that fucking church when my parents started to rise and fall out of their caskets.

"It was so weird, y'know? Sitting and watching the whole town as they scrambled in terror, yelling about how the lord chose my parents to rise again and spread his message. Until my dad took a big ass chunk out of the Rev. And I just sat there. Staring at them until I heard this little girl scream in terror as my mom cornered her.

"I jumped up and ran through all the people and pulled my mom back, then I pushed the little girl towards her mom, Kathy Sampson who I had the biggest crush on when we were younger, before I took out my pistol and shot my mom in the heart."

"But she didn't stay down." Chelsea whispered, stopping and turning to face Jack. He stopped too, and didn't flinch when she gently wrapped her arms around him in a hug.

"That's when I knew they weren't human. I told everyone to evacuate, but while I was dealing with my mom, my dad had already attacked a few people and it was bad. Real bad." He continued, placing his free hand on Chelsea's back as he accepted her comforting gesture. "I did what I could, y'know, after I took out my parents. Tried tellin' the doctors and the rest of the sheriff's office that it's not just a fever and everyone would end up like that if there wasn't a quarantine or something like that. But they wouldn't listen.

"Zeb fought in 'Nam with my dad, so I grew up around him. Told me that we needed to get the hell out of Perry, so we did. Didn't look back."

"I'm sorry for your losses."

"I'm sorry for yours." Jack spoke softly, watching as Chelsea backed away from him. "We should keep moving."


	8. Introductions

Dean was watching the European out of the corner of his eye the whole time while they walked. He had introduced himself as Antonio Cesaro, but he preferred to just go by Cesaro, and Dean couldn't help but feel like he had heard the name before. It wasn't exactly a common name, so that meant that he had probably met the man somewhere.

He just hoped that it wasn't part of his past that Chelsea didn't know about. Sure they hadn't really dipped into that in-depth, but what he held back could start issues with her and he really didn't want her to feel unsafe around him.

"So, Dean," the European started, saying his name as if he knew it wasn't his real name. "that girl certainly is beautiful."

"She is, Cesaro, but she's my girl so don't get any ideas." Dean chuckled, it was more of a forced one, completely unsure about this guy. How do you start a conversation about Chelsea like that? He was only grateful that Jack had offered to stay back with Chelsea, because he didn't want the European near her.

"Of course not. I know what it's like to lose my love, so I definitely wouldn't want to put another man through that."

That was it. That was the hint for Dean to figure out where the hell he knew the European from and when he figured it out he had to stop himself for letting out a groan.

"It was an accident." Dean stated as they approached the gas station. Neither man was aware of the rifles following their movements from the tree line, since Dean was looking ahead to the pumps and Cesaro was watching Dean. "Živilė was a great woman, but she was at the wrong place at the worst time."

"She was the best woman." Cesaro stated loudly, bringing Dean's attention back to him. "And you took her away!"

"I didn't pull the trigger and you know it!" Dean shouted back, officially done trying to keep his temper in check. He wasn't directly responsible for the Lithuanian's death and he wasn't going to stand by and be treated like he was. "Maybe you should've been there instead of chickening out behind all that 'the Swiss are neutral' bullshit!"

That was the last straw for Cesaro, the European charging for Dean as rustling in the tree line was heard. Neither man looked, though, and continued to throw punches and roll around in the dirt. The zombies limping down the path and Jack calling for Chelsea to come back going ignored by the two men until Chelsea had launched herself full-force at Cesaro to knock him off of Dean. Cesaro, being the battle savvy man that he was, rolled with Chelsea and managed to wrap his arm around her neck as he stood, putting him in a pretty desirable position as Dean rose to his feet.

"She has nothing to do with this, Claudio."

"Shut up!"

"Dean, what's going on?" Chelsea asked, tears forming in those innocent green eyes as she looked to the man who had saved her. Dean remained passive, she assumed that he didn't want the European knowing that he was bothered(she hoped that was the case), as he took a slow step towards them.

"Yes, Dean," The European stated, dragging his name out since he obviously knew that wasn't his birth name. "Tell her how you killed my Živilė."

"I didn't kill her, and you know that. Just let Chelsea go, since she has absolutely nothing to do with this." Dean requested, looking to the left to see that the zombies were coming closer to them. "Before we all die, Claudio."

The European waited until Dean had taken another cautionary glance to his left to strike, pulling the handgun from Chelsea's waistband and taking a shot. A small scream of terror left the redhead as she watched Dean fall to the ground, almost in slow motion. But then the hot barrel of the gun was pressed to the side of her head and another shot rang out. The pain she was expecting didn't come, but she fell to the ground with the European as his body went limp. A glance behind her revealed Jack stepping from the tree line as he shot down the zombies coming towards her and Dean, who was clutching his leg where he had been shot.

"Dean?"

"I'm alive, Chelsea." He assured, letting her help him sit up as Jack came closer. "Are you okay?"

"I'm not the one who just got shot." She blew off his question, looking at his thigh. "He was shaking, so you might've gotten lucky. I'll know for sure once I get your pants off."

"Can I get lucky in other ways?" Dean asked, expecting to get smacked where he was just shot but was instead rewarded by Jack's laughter and a smile from Chelsea.

"All my medical stuff is in the car." She mumbled, looking around for something she could tie around Dean's leg to stop the bleeding temporarily.

"What do you need?" Jack asked, kneeling down beside her. Dean thought the two looked nice next to one another, but he chalked that up to pain hallucinations. Chelsea was his, not Jack's.

"Something- anything, really- to tie around his leg. That'll hold him from here back to the car."

"Take my shirt." Dean suggested before reaching for the pistol and aiming for the zombie lurking twenty yards back.

"How the hell did you make that?" Jack asked, in complete disbelief that Dean managed that shot with just a handgun and his eyesight.

"Ex-SEAL. I'll explain later." Dean grit out before putting another bullet in the already dead European's head out of spite before Chelsea pulled his wifebeater up and off of his body. "Thank you, Chels. I was going to get to that."

"I didn't want you going into shock due to blood loss because you were dipping into your past." She stated, gingerly adjusting his leg before tying the fabric around his leg tightly. Hearing him hiss in pain again made her feel bad, but she knew that it was necessary to keep him alive. "We should get the gas while we're here."

"Can we manage it all?" Dean asked, looking between the two.

"I can help you walk, and she can carry the gas cans."

"Yeah." Chelsea nodded her agreement before standing and grabbing the gas can that Dean was once carrying. "You sit tight and keep watch, and we'll grab the gas."

* * *

>Jack watched quietly as Chelsea tended to Dean's leg. He'd make a comment about the pain, then she'd tell him to stop being a baby, then he'd say something sarcastic back. It was a highly amusing cycle, he had to admit, despite the circumstances that had them in this predicament.<p><p>

He liked that the two had asked him to stay with them despite not wanting to go back to his camp, because it meant that they still had trust in him despite the actions of Cesaro. What he didn't like was having to help hold Dean down while Chelsea worked to remove the bullet from his thigh. He hoped to God that he never had to hold another man down while he writhed in pain- helpful or not. He also hoped that he never had to kill another living man.

"See, was that so bad?" Chelsea asked as she finished stitching Dean's wound closed and both blondes stared at her in disbelief. "All I have to do now is wrap it and then you can put your pants back on."

Jack had to admit that Dean had intentional fortitude. There was no way he would've been able to be in Dean's position without pitching a tent. Especially when Chelsea was seated on Dean's chest while she worked on getting the bullet out of his thigh since Dean's seat on the passenger's side gave her a shitty vantage point and she was at risk of Dean's reflexes attacking her with any other positioning. That had to have been a marvelous view and the Oklahoma native was certainly jealous.

"Do I have to?"

"Would you prefer running from things trying to eat us fully clothed or just in your underwear?" Chelsea asked, not looking up at Dean as she wrapped his thigh in the bandaging.

"Actually..."

"Don't answer that." She and Jack spoke in unison before looking to one another in mild surprise. Dean just smirked, trying his best to adjust his torso without agitating his ribs. He wasn't going to tell Chelsea because he didn't need her worrying unnecessarily about him. She had other things on her mind- skeletons from his past that he had to shine a light on because he had almost gotten her killed. If she wanted to know why, he would have no issues telling her. She deserves that much.

"And you guys are sure you don't want to come back to camp? At least for another night?" Jack asked, his eyes following Chelsea as she moved from in front of Dean to the trunk of the Corvette.

"You guys have been more than hospitable, but we have to keep moving." Dean spoke up, knowing that he needed to get back to Seth and Roman. He needed to know that his brothers were okay and he knew for sure that he had more of a chance at keeping Chelsea safe when he was with his brothers.

"Just know that you're always welcome with us." Jack stated, looking to Chelsea as she brought Dean a pair of jeans and a tshirt.

"And we appreciate it." Chelsea spoke with a genuine smile before she tossed the shirt to the dashboard and unfolded the jeans. "Please make this easy for me, Dean."

"As easy as I can, Chelsea." Dean muttered, trying his best to stand before she pushed him back down. "I'll just let you lead."

Again, Jack could only watch and fight back a chuckle as they went about getting the jeans on Dean. More bickering ensued and he honestly felt bad whenever Dean tried to hold in a wince. He was trying to be strong for Chelsea, and she probably didn't even realize it while she was doing her best to make him comfortable.

"I should be getting back, take this and be safe out there." Jack requested, holding out the rifle to Chelsea. She took it hesitantly before hugging Jack and wishing him well. All Dean could manage was a handshake but Jack didn't mind, nodding to the two one last time before heading to his truck.

"I owe you a huge apology, Chelsea." Dean mumbled once Jack had started on his way back to his camp and she looked up at him passively as she stood. She reached for his shirt from the dashboard and unfolded it before pulling it over his head and helping his arms through the loops. She knew that his range of movement was severely limited thanks to his brawl with the European, and she knew that meant that he needed her now more than ever.

"Apology accepted. I thought you just ran a gym with your brothers?"

"I did and that wasn't a lie. I just left out the retired Navy SEAL part because I felt that it wasn't important."

"And how did that guy know you? And who the hell was Živilė?"

"Claudio's lover. She was a Lithuanian who was helping us with a mission. We got bad intel from some Russian informants and she was at the wrong place at the worst time. I guess he blamed me even though I wasn't even there." Dean explained, keeping it all as simple as he could. Chelsea only nodded, gently cupping his cheeks as she inspected his face. "You still trust me, right?"

"That depends." She whispered, using her thumb to wipe at the blood on his split bottom lip. "Got any more secrets I should know about if we're going to stick together?"

"My birth name isn't Dean. It's Jonathan but I changed it for security purposes."

"But you primarily go by Dean?" She asked, backing away from him and pushing his hair out of his face.

"Ever since I changed it. Dean Ambrose." He reintroduced himself, holding out his hand and he looked at him quizzically before getting the gist.

"Chelsea Scott." She spoke with a small smile, shaking his hand. "Get comfortable, we've got some ground to cover."

* * *

>Seth found himself walking around the floor of the shopping center that his group had taken over. He always told them that it was a simple perimeter just to ease his nerves, but he really liked the large windows that made up the east wall. From eight stories up all the zombies on the ground below weren't so terrifying, and he'd stay and watch them for a while. He wasn't sure why, but they were interesting when they weren't trying to eat people.<p><p>

But today was different. Something had caught his eye, and he heard gunshots coming from where the disturbance in the natural flow occurred. Zombies were being shot down and pushed back, but Seth couldn't figure out who it was or why.

"Seth! Have you seen Tyson!?" Nattie called, causing Seth to look through his binoculars to see that the disturbance was Nattie's husband, and he didn't make it out on his own very long.

"Nat, he's-"

"SETH!" Roman shouted, effectively cutting off the two toned man and making him run with Nattie to where he stood by the emergency stairwell. "Someone broke the barrier and now we've gotta evacuate."

"Fucking Tyson." Seth grit out before nodding his understanding. "We'll head west. That's where Dean should be coming from."

"Sounds like a plan." The Samoan agreed before propping the door open and going to help his cousins with their packing.

_This is why I don't unpack. Nothing ever fucking lasts._ Seth thought to himself, going to grab his backpack and sleeping bag before he went to help Nattie with her things. Tyson's stuff was gone, and she wasn't even trying to take anything.

"I just don't know how he could be so selfish." The blonde cried, not bothering to slow down in her packing. Seth could only shrug, grabbing her bag and ushering her to Eva. The redhead instantly wrapped an arm around her friend's shoulders and helped her down the stairs, Seth following close behind so he could be there if something jumped out at them.

It was going to be a long night, Seth decided, getting into the driver's seat of the smaller SUV and watching as Roman and his cousins loaded up the other. A small honk once they were all situated told Seth to take the lead, and he did so without hesitation. He just hoped that they stumbled across Dean on the way.


End file.
